Bored
by GrinGrin
Summary: Sokka had an annoying tendency to get very bored, very fast. What is he to do after the war, when everything he does bored him? Is there something, or someone that can relieve him? Updated 12/01/2015


_I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender._

**Bored**

After the end of the War, he had met a great many people as part of his duties as one of the founders of a new world order. Even so, it was depressing to hear so many platitudes from nobles and diplomats, merchant princes and gold-diggers.

How lucky to have freed the Avatar! To have been in a position to make a difference!

Intellectually, he knew it was true. But Sokka wasn't a being of pure intellect. He was a man. And he carried all the benefits and drawbacks of that with him.

A tear in his eye as he looked at the moon. A clenched jaw as he directed needed resources to his Tribe. Dying a bit every time he saw a monument to the fallen. His dreams were filled with fire and orphans, blasted earth and widows, red skies and black grief.

And, even taking all of that into account, Sokka was mostly content. How could he not be? It was his mind that housed these memories and nightmares and it was his mind that made him so exceptional.

And that was the thing. His mind. It was what set him apart from Aang and Katara and Toph and even Zuko.

While they were warriors, he was a soldier. They could fight, but he could plan. They could defeat entire armies; he could plot the downfall of entire nations. They led with strength, he with cunning.

It was depraved, but on some days – when the tears burned and old regrets flared - he felt he had more in common with Azula than his own sister. They both were planners, manipulators. They both hid their true feelings, bottled it up so they could function at that full capacity that _tiny_ bit longer.

But he was also different from the princess. He dealt with those repressed emotions. It just took him time to work through them all.

Today had been one of those days. Where he couldn't sleep. Thought upon thought upon thought running through his mind, seemingly without end. It was both his blessing and his curse. It was what made him perhaps the most sought-after advisor in the world. And all he wanted to do was find something to tire out his mind, so he could finally get some spirits-damned rest.

It was nights like this that made him miss the war, as ghastly as it was to say. Then he had something to preoccupy him, at least. A challenge like no other. Couldn't stop and just dwell on those broken dreams, not when the fate of the whole world was lying in the palm of his hand.

Where was the challenge in organising treaties and relief efforts where he once had to manage four children seeking to overthrow a nation that basically controlled the known world? He had succeeded then. In comparison everything else was so simple it drove him to tears.

Spirits above and below... the only time he had felt like _himself_ after the war was when Azula had been rescued by the Loyalists. It had been a wonderful time, though many would look at him in shock for expressing such an idea.

He lay in the dark, reminiscing on those days. A flash of teeth, unseen, swallowed by the dark in the ambassadorial suite. He dreamt of fire and adrenaline, but he was at peace.

Xxx

It was a good day.

Aang was preoccupied with identifying which of the many Airbender descendants actually inherited the gift.

His sister was petitioning in the North for support in the South.

Zuko was entertaining far too many diplomats. Again.

Toph was wandering the world, doing whatever she felt like.

Which essentially left only him to oppose Azula. Oh, he had advisors and generals and, again, far too many diplomats _trying_ to help, but they couldn't keep up. In the first month he'd let them do as they pleased out of some impish curiosity while he actually planned.

They had lost entire swathes of land and the people had flocked to the resurgent Princess.

He had given a theatrical sigh when they have finally swallowed their collective pride, stood up from his dinner and went to the command tent. No-one had been allowed to enter while he worked.

Three hours later he had come back out, sat down and practically begged the cook to give him more meat. Something from the Earth Kingdom, if he could manage it. Nostalgia was laying heavily on his mind.

When his generals had stampeded into the tent, they had found a map of the Fire Nation, scribbled on with many borderline-illegible notes.

They had been orders, broad ones, defining only a general purpose. Defend here, feint there, flank this forest. Collapse this mine, burn that bridge, plant mines in this canyon. Annex this town, garrison that lone outpost, slaughter the herds in that hamlet.

It made no sense, not at first. But as they bickered among themselves, they could see some sense in the apparent madness. But only some. Much was still unclear and they were loathe to commit so much for no solid reason.

It took them an embarrassing amount of time to realise they were out of their depth. But they did follow through with them eventually.

_(If that happened after they spoke to the new Fire Lord? After Zuko had given them a _look, one _even his wife would have been leery of? With strict orders to do as the 'idiot said, he actually knows what he's doing'? Did it matter?)_

_xxx_

It had been a rout. He had either anticipated or outplayed most of Azula's moves, not all of them. Spirits no, he was good, but he was just a man. But what did those losses mean when he was now the one with the world's resources at his beck and call?

It had taken them three months to finally corner Azula.

Sokka had been lounging in his tent when a runner had burst in. Red-faced, the youth had explained; between heaving breaths; that Azula had been spotted retreating from a besieged fortress. She had set a wide swath of the surrounding farmland on fire and the army had lost her in the following confusion.

Sokka had drained his cup of fire-whisky, clapped a companionable hand on the boy's shoulder and started yelling for an ostrich-horse to be saddled.

Xxx

He had come back two days later, ostrich-horse in tow. But what truly amazed everyone was the fact that Azula herself was on the ostrich horse, Sokka walking slightly ahead. The soldiers would, to a man, insist that they heard the two talking, as if without a care in the world, about the innate advantages and disadvantages of ostrich-horses and komodo-dragons.

It was a surreal sight, but one his men had eventually accepted. He had led a group of what started as three children to overthrow a nation that was on the cusp of controlling the world. What was the capture of one woman in the face of that?

Xxx

"Been one of those days?"

"Yhep."

"Paisho?"

He paused, thinking. Looked up and smirked. Golden eyes met his own, and a smirk to match his rose on ruby lips.

The palace-wing-turned-prison echoed with the clack of moving tiles.

Challenges weren't always that hard to come by, if one had the right partner.

Xxx

AN: Okay, confession time. I adore Sokkla. They mesh so wonderfully.

Not much else to say, except that Sokka's got huge cajones. How did he convince Azula? Rode up to her, unarmed, and talked her down. If he died, Aang would essentially go nuclear until she died as well. If he didn't he'd keep poking holes in her arguments that she could retake the throne until she relented.

So yeah. Sokka basically annoyed Azula so much, she surrendered. Fun times.

Read, enjoy and review.

~GrinGrin

Written: 15/06/2014

Posted: 15/06/2014


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